


Princess Emma

by TheAttagirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:03:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4926046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAttagirl/pseuds/TheAttagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pinocchio was able to convince his father that he couldn't protect the savior, but not in time for Snow White to be brought down to the wardrobe.  There is just enough time for the Prince to enter with his daughter, to raise and guide her on his own.</p><p>This is a series of stories in now particular order in this verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

David could hardly believe that he had been called into the school. His daughter Emma had never gotten in trouble before and now he was called that his daughter was fighting in school. This was not like her.

He walked down the hall approaching the classroom and saw Emma sitting on a small chair outside the door. He dropped down on one knee, at eye level with her and asked in his rarely used stern voice “Princess Emma, what do you have to say for yourself?”

She turned her nose up and pouted out “You always told me I had to stand up for what was right!”

This was not what he expected. Emma was far from perfect, but she had always been respectful. He remembered the spell he had performed on Maleficent's spawn with Snow. Emma had no darkness in her. “What do you mean?” He asked but Emma had clearly said all she intended to, as she turned away, angry and sad.

“Maybe I can help shed some light on the situation?” Ms. Hunter, Emma’s kindergarten teacher interrupted.

“Please, this is so unlike her.”

“Come in, let’s discuss this.” Ms. Hunter motioned David into the classroom and waved for his to sit in one of the tiny chairs in front of her desk. “We have been reading fairy-tales, and this week we read Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.” David felt his heart shudder at the name of his wife. He couldn’t count the number of times he had told Emma of her mother, and all their adventures. “Emma started insisting that I hadn’t read the whole story, that she knew the rest because, get this, her parents were Snow White and Prince Charming. Several of the other students insisted that this was obviously not the case, and Emma punched Susan.”

David hesitated as to how exactly to respond “I have told Emma this story several times, and her mother used to call me ‘Prince Charming’, she must have mixed the two stories up.”

“It is not uncommon for children with deceased parents to mythologise them, but Emma needs to learn to tell fairy-tales from reality. I know that this is not like Emma, so I will not give her detention, but this really calls for an important discussion between the two of you.” David quickly nodded his agreement and awkwardly made his way up out of the child-sized chair.

 

David lifted Emma up into the cab of his muddy farm truck, but the usual smile was missing from her happy face. She looked even more upset than she had when he first walked into the school. He was wondering if he should push her for an explanation when one exploded out of his angry daughter. “I heard you two talking! Are you lying to me!? Who was my mother!? Is there really a curse?” tears leaked out of Emma’s eyes, the eyes she inherited from Snow. 

David pulled over onto the side of the road and pulled her into his arms. He carefully wiped the tears from her eyes and answered as earnestly as he could “You know your magical powers, you can always tell who is lying, and I swear I am not lying. Your mother is Snow White, I am Prince Charming, all of our subjects and your mother are under a curse.”

“And I will save them all on my 28th birthday.” Emma recited the standard ending of the tale of the curse. 

“And you will save them all. He answered, kissing his daughter on the top of her head.


	2. Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since there is no August in this fic, there is no one to stop Neil and Emma from being together in Canada, and Emma doesn't go to jail. This is going to change a lot of things in the future.

Emma stared at the pregnancy test in shock. Neal was sitting on the edge of the tub in their cramped bathroom, waiting on tenterhooks for her answer. “Well?”

Emma could only burst into tears. This had never been the plan. When she fled to Canada with Neil, she had known that her life was going to change, but this was beyond anything she could have expected. 

Neil jumped down from his perch and knelt in front of her. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m here with you, we can handle this.” Despite his attempt at soothing words, he was a pale as a sheet. The juxtaposition turned Emma’s tears to inappropriate giggles.

“Do you want to hear something crazy?” Neil nodded. “I really want my Dad.” Fathers had been a taboo subject in their relationship. Neither of them had a relationship with their own and so they had avoided the conversation.

“Wasn’t there a reason why you left him?” Neil’s incredulity was strained. Running away at 18, moving in with a strange man, and eventually fleeing the country with him did not suggest any love between Emma and her father.

“He was, is, a good man. Unfortunately he was also crazy. Not weird or strange but literally crazy. He thinks he is prince charming, and my dead mother is really Snow White under a curse.” Emma paused. She had done her best to avoid any thoughts of her father, it was just to painful, but now that she had started she found she couldn’t stop. “He loves me, and I don’t think he is a danger to himself or others, but I couldn’t live with it any more. He was always calling me the ‘savior’ and telling me stories about living in the Enchanted forest, the evil queen and the Dark One which is what he called Rumpelstiltskin.” 

Neil’s head shot up. He had been staring awkwardly at his shoes during her tirade, but this was not something he thought was possible. “What was that, about the Dark One?” He barely squeaked out.

Emma was too caught up in her memories to notice Neil’s response. “He was some sort of evil wizard, always making deals and tricking people into doing his bidding. He was heartless and powerful. He created the curse, although the evil queen was the one who used it.”

Neil considered for a moment just sitting back and saying nothing, but he couldn’t. Emma was so vulnerable, she was carrying his child and he couldn’t do that to her. He knew that he couldn’t be her whole family, if she could have her father back in her life, he had to give that to her. “Emma, I know this is hard to believe, but your father is not crazy.


	3. Princess Lessons

Emma knew that the other girls in her class like to pretend to be princesses, and were often called princess by their fathers, but she was pretty sure none of them knew just what goes into being raised a princess.

Etiquette

“The wife of a Duke is a...?” 

“Duchess.”

“And you call them both...?”

“Your grace.”

Emma had hear of other parents quizzing their children on spelling lists and multiplication tables, but she was pretty sure her’s was the only one who quized their child about feudal nobility. 

Dancing

Emma woke to the sound of furniture being moved in the family room. She climbed out of bed and crept out of her room. She was used to the fact that her childhood was unique, but the unpredictable nature of her life was starting to wear thin.

Her father was standing in the open space he had created in the middle of the floor with an eager grin on his face. “Emma! I found some music just like what they dance to in the Enchanted Forest.” He pushed the play button on the CD player and held out his hand, “May I have this dance?”

The tension that had been building in her slipped out, her father’s eager mood was infectious. She slipped her hand into his with a giggle “It would be my pleasure.”

They spent the whole morning, and every Saturday morning afterwards for several months dancing circles around the living room.

Sword Fighting

Emma placed the final bandage on her fingers. Her father swore he was being easy with her, and she had seen the damage he could wield against the practice dummy when he let loose, but even gentle whacks with a wooden practice sword could hurt.

Horsemanship 

“So I’m not going to ride it?” she asked, eyeballing the gelding in the stall at the back of the barn.

“Nope, not yet.” Her father was far too excited for this conversation. “The bond between rider and horse is delicate and must be built with care. In addition to your morning chores you will muck out his stall twice a day and groom him twice a day.”

Emma tried not to pout, she had certainly been told that princesses don’t pout enough times in her life. She was not the only student in her rural school to have a horse, but all of them also had riding lessons. “When can I learn to ride.” She barely kept the whine out of her voice, and her mood was not helped by the smirk on her father’s face.

“He’ll let you know.” And with that she was given a pitchfork and a nudge into the stall. “Get to work.”


End file.
